The Fighter and Her Master
by Caramel Van Gogh
Summary: She knew that from the very beginning, she couldn't and wouldn't move on from it. Scars will always remain even after the wound has healed.


Hi y'all!

I present to you my piece for the Tifazine! I'm so honored and grateful to be part of it and I hoped that I gave my part justice.

To those who pre-ordered the zine, thank you very much! I promise you it's going to be worth it!

Thank you to the organizers for the zine aaaa I can't wait.

Alas, enjoy!

* * *

_It's quiet. _Tifa Lockhart thought as she played mindlessly with the shot glasses.

7th Heaven was closed for today as they were low on supplies and needed to re-stock. Gerald, the kind owner of the bar, was out buying them and that left her alone to watch the place. She suddenly wished that another presence was with her so as not to drown in her thoughts.

Quiet always meant there was room for thinking and thinking was something Tifa was completely avoiding ever since...ever since _that _day.

It had been a year and a half since the day where her hometown was burned into ashes by a _monster._ Where every single one of her beloved friends and family were killed ruthlessly. A year and a half since she woke up in Midgar, all alone—a lone fifteen year old girl left by herself to survive in the slums after being treated for her wound in the hospital. Tifa did her best to fight for survival but it was hard being a homeless teen, in the slums no less. She endured many awful things to keep going. Her anger being the only thing that she held on to, as well as her master's principle of not giving up.

It was in this particular moment in her life that she learned, _needed,_ to be her own hero because she realized there was nobody who could save her. No matter how long she waited for _**him **_to come.

However, by some grace of the planet, Gerald saw her, took her in and gave her shelter. It was a flurry of words and arguments as Tifa didn't trust him at first but came to see how genuine and kind he really was. That his intentions were only good. He took care of her and taught her many things. How to manage a bar, treat injuries, uses of medicine (he was a former medic), and more.

Her line of thought suddenly brought her back to the horrible night of Nibelheim's destruction.

Why was she alive? Why was she spared? Certainly she would've died then and there too. At the hands of the fallen hero that turned mad.

She didn't want to relive the terrible memory and feel the pain of being the only one to survive. Of being the only one spared but those who she held dear to her heart didn't have the same chance. She knew that from the very beginning, she couldn't and wouldn't move on from it. Scars will always remain even after the wound has healed.

The door burst open and she was startled out of her reverie. Gerald entered the area holding up a man covered in a cloak and hood. Tifa quickly assisted him in easing the cloaked man onto the sofa in the living room and checked the injuries of the said man but she couldn't see much because every time she made a move to pull off the cloak, the man clutched at it, not wanting for it to be taken off of him.

She turned to Gerald and asked "What happened?" it was only one question but it implied so many more, _Who was this? Where did you find him? Are you in trouble?_

"I was out buying supplies when I stumbled upon him injured, must have been fighting both monsters and humans….can you go get the medical kit?"

She nodded her head and stood up, quickly making her way back upstairs to get the medical kit and some potions. Once she had what she needed, she dashed towards where the wounded man was. Tifa continued to go down and when she neared the end of the stairs, she heard a whispered conversation.

"Why hide from her?" Gerald inquired with a soft voice, it was rare for he was a strict and strong man as he was kind and gentle.

"I didn't want to show my face to her like this. It's unbecoming and I feel ashamed" the other voice spoke. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. It was a voice she was painfully familiar with.

"Because you left the gal alone here in the city?"

The man didn't answer back as a way of his silent agreement.

"You do know that it wasn't what you wanted. There were other pressing matters you needed to do and for all that it's worth, you asked me to find and look out for her, dear brother."

Tifa heard a loud gasp and coughing then the padding of foot steps and a concerned "Are you okay?"

Not wanting to eavesdrop further and her curiosity getting the best of her, Tifa entered the room.

Both Gerald and the cloaked man stopped their conversation and looked at her way. It was clear in their expressions that they were shocked at her sudden arrival but she didn't care and walked fast towards the injured man, stopping when she came close enough to him. Her mind was reeling and she thought she might pass out but Tifa swallowed a lump in her throat. Hands fisted the hood and yanked it backwards to reveal who the mysterious man was.

Tifa's hand shot through her mouth, covering it, too speechless to speak. She could only stare at the man in front of her man.

For the man she was facing was none other than her master, Zangan.

* * *

"Ma...Master" Tifa managed to utter as she processed what she was seeing.

Her Master Zangan, the one she thought she wouldn't be able to see again, was here. On the living room's couch while sporting a deep wound. At this realization, Tifa was shaken out of her stupor and kneeled down to inspect the old man's injury once more. She made a move to touch his cloak and pull it out of the way in order to view the wound better but Zangan was adamant in keeping it there.

"Master! Please, let us see your wound so we can treat it!" Her plea was a desperate one but her Master still wouldn't budge and instead placed his hand on hers which he clutched gently.

"Tifa, my precious student, hear me out." Zangan coughed another handful of blood. Some slipped down from his mouth to his chin. He looked over at Gerald and softly asked him, "Dear brother, can you leave us for a minute?". Gerald nodded and quietly left the room.

He directed his look towards her again and held it there. She made to speak but he shushed her out.

"Lass, I'm sorry that I left you here all alone. I felt angry at what happened to Nibelheim that I left to find answers...I thought that by searching for them, I could at least do _something_. Something to avenge our hometown. I had thought to bring you with me. But you were just a fifteen year old girl, too young for the dangers this world could offer, so I decided to leave you here."

"And given the circumstances of what happened, you were too raw for what was about to come. That didn't mean I wanted to leave you here all alone. I contacted my brother, Gerald, to take you in and take care of you. Once I was done searching, I would come back and tell you all about what I found out."

"It wasn't easy and it took me a year to find _anything_. There were hardly any leads but I found out that Shinra…Tifa..there's something...you must..know too..Nibelheim..is.." Zangan inhaled sharply, clutched his stomach and coughed some more.

Tifa squeezed his hand. "Master, stop. Let me just heal you first. Please." The tears were cascading down her face and she frantically made a move to clean his wounds again. Upon seeing the injury though, Tifa gasped, it was huge and too..too deep. That didn't stop her from trying to heal it. Her hands were all over it but Zangan stopped what she was doing.

"Tifa...I don't have much time left. Just know that...I'm proud of you...for what you've become..a strong woman. Always remember that...you should never give up...my precious student...And I ask of you to...go...to..." His voice was getting softer and slower by the second. The light in his eyes slowly fading.

Then it was quiet again. Tifa looked up to her master and found that his eyes were closed. She shook him, "Master". No response. She shook him again. But it was useless. Her master was never going to wake up again. Tifa silently cried. The shock of Zangan's death was too much. She cried in her anguish until there were no more tears left.

Her eyes burned with new hatred. With fury that threatened to eat her flesh and bones.

_Shinra will pay. I will drag them down with me to hell._

Years later, it was when she joined the organization called AVALANCHE and found a blond-haired mercenary at the train station that…

.

.

_the die is cast._


End file.
